So my new chap, Flying the Jolly Scarlet, Gambling with the Gods comes out on March 6,  preorders are available at the kithbooks website, linked throughout. :)   But I know some of you are wonder, just wtf is in this book.  Thus and so

What is in this book.

Like my previous, it is awfully autobiographical. I started writing the first pieces in this just as the Ishtar Cycle went into preproduction, and I struggled as a non-documented, uninsured person to get a biopsy, or proper diagnosis (let alone treatment) for a visible recently discovered tumor my dentist found in my mouth.

I was trapped in an increasingly malfunctioning and toxic relationship that I was nonetheless dependent upon for survival. (ahem...no longer) I was running to the end of a long period of intense self-diagnostic to work through the library stacks like layers of trauma I am working through now with a very good therapist. And amidst it all, to be somewhat cryptic (I think it works better to represent the text, rather than colour it, honestly) I experienced something of a calling.

As a frequently unhoused and displaced autistic trans sex worker with a laundry list of mental health issues, ADHD and lactose intolerance (rar milk) I have a lot to say on….everything. As a rare older surviving member of the trans community (and rarer an older white member of the trans community who isn’t all middle class and shit. I am working class like fuck. Heh. I feel an obligation to document and to record my experiences, my struggles, my needs but especially, my environment – a tendency which in the last year has spilled over to my photography. Syreeta Muir (@hungryghostpoet) has suggested I assemble the best still shots of my neighborhood and adjacent and pitch it as the Maenad’s Seattle.

Any takers?

Anyway, it’s a lot, it’s a veritable pandora’s box (or molotov cocktail) it’s small it’s active and it contains multitudes. Also, you might want to throw that.

I think the last was composed around October of that year.(2021 in the parlance of our (the west) time I sent it a whole bunch of places (alongside two others that were not so well received -nor, IMO, as good, or as polished - whereas the final ms here is perhaps the most revised work I’ve ever done. Ultimately the ms that contained the bulk of what is here as Jolly Scarlet consumed the best bits of the other two chaps and then some organization and org based revision and counter organization and so on followed.

After I had the sense (it came to me while unsuccessfully trying to get to sleep staring at the ceiling at four am and then, in retrospect, was quite obvious. But I often miss the VERY obvious, especially as pertains to myself – a steaming fizzy blend of autism-informed sensory processing issues and years of verbal and psychological abuse as a child. Go me!

And so thunderstruck the Maenad sent the Ms @kithbooks and immediately there was a whispered conspiracy to leave this filthy angry tract tucked in the prep school, truck stop, and picnic bathroom stalls for with which to speak to seeking, like minds to find, and impressionable minds to get blown.

When this sells out I will tell y’all the story of how the Maenad got buzzed by Lilith the Babysitter on the bus one fine autumn day shortly thereafter, but not before. Momma’s got to hold something back for the holidays now.

Plunder now, story later. Raise the flag.

See you all on May Day

Read my truth here on March 6